Hard Lessons
by SiriusMarauderFan
Summary: Draco received his Hogwarts letter and Lucius thought it was time to teach his son a thing or two about magic. one shot.


**Author's Note:** Many thanks to Jordi for betaing, and providing the title. :)

Written for...

Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition. _Team/Position:_ Montrose Magpies, Chaser 1. _Task:_ Write about Lucius/Draco (thankfully familial). _Prompts:_ bond, tremble, boggart

Restricted Section Challenge. _Prompt:_ Write about the Trio Era without mentioning the trio.

Stories of Color Challenge. _Prompts:_ slate grey, ivory, jet black

Phobia Monthly Challenge. _Prompt:_ Felinophobia

 **Hard Lessons**

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Lucius?" Narcissa fretted, watching from the doorway as her husband cleared out a storage chamber of the manor.

The wizard paused in spelling the paintings to the wall to turn his slate grey eyes to meet hers. "You're the one who's always insisting I need to bond with the boy."

"Yes, I know." She anxiously bit her lip, eying the rusty old trunk at the center of the room. "But there must be better ways to do it. You two used to have so much fun, back when you were teaching him to fly…"

"The boy is eleven now, Narcissa. It's time he learn more than how to handle a broomstick."

"Yes, but—"

"Don't you want him to excel at school?"

"Of course."

"Then, this is the way! We can't expect him to learn at the same time as the common children he'll be in class with. If we teach him to use a wand now, it'll show how skilled he is, and his peers will learn to respect him." Lucius grinned, flicking his wand to fasten the shutters over the windows. "Trust me, my dear. My father did the same for me."

:-:

Draco arrived at the dusty old chamber with minutes to spare, nervously wringing the front of his robes as he watched the minutes tick down on the antique clock in the corner of the hall. Father appreciated promptness, and Draco's mother had warned him that minding the rules would be best during his afternoon alone with his father, though she hadn't told him what they would be doing.

The clock chimed once, and the young boy unwound his hands from the fabric to push open the heavy door. Lucius was already waiting inside, fiddling with the lock on a beaten-up chest. It was the only piece of furniture in the wide, warm room. He only became aware of Draco's presence when the door slammed shut.

"Good, you're on time." Lucius beckoned Draco forward, and the boy went grudgingly, halting a few feet behind his father. He was instantly aware of his posture and did his best to stand straight, even though it was difficult to see more than the outline of his father and the trunk in the sunlight filtered through the shutters.

"I think it's time to start your training," Lucius explained, absently turning his wand as he spoke.

"My training? I thought that's what Hogwarts was for."

"School will teach you a great many things, yes, but I intend to make sure you can at least perform some simple spells before the summer is through. You're a Malfoy, after all. You want people to believe that you've been using a wand your whole life."

Draco wasn't so sure he did, but he didn't say so. He'd been begging his parents to let him use a wand since he could talk, and he was finally getting his chance a full three months before his friends. He'd only just received his Hogwarts letter the morning before!

"We'll start with basic spells." Lucius held out his wand, but Draco hesitated in grabbing it. He'd been warned about the dangers of using another man's wand... but surely if his father said it was okay, he'd be fine.

He took hold of the sleek, well-polished mahogany with both hands, grinning excitedly as he imagined the power surging under his fingertips.

"You'll only want to use one hand when casting," his father corrected. Draco let one hand fall to his side. "Good. Now try Lumos."

Draco lifted the wand, pointing past Lucius and the trunk, into the darkness.

"Lumos," he tried. The wand tip flickered, but died out quickly.

"Again."

Determined, Draco closed his eyes and imagined the sun. It was finally getting warm after a long winter, and it had been wonderfully sunny every day that week. The boy imagined that light flooding through the darkened room.

"Lumos!"

He opened his eyes to find a steady light illuminating his father's beaming face.

"Well done. Now let's try something a bit harder."

Lucius instructed Draco in lighting a few sconces so they would have continuous light to work by, then taught the boy a handful of first-year spells. By the end of the hour, Draco had managed to make a ring float for a few seconds and almost managed to move a spoon.

"It you keep this up, you should be able to skip first year altogether!"

Draco smiled, pleased to have had made his father proud for the moment, but his curiosity won out over his momentary victory.

"Father, what's in the trunk?"

Lucius' smile faded as well as he turned to the object in question. Draco was sure he'd never seen it before, but that wasn't surprising. There were at least a dozen rooms just like this one throughout the manor, full of statues and paintings and antique furniture, and he probably hadn't been in all of them.

Though somehow he doubted he would have found this particular trunk anyway. The light wood was beaten and splintered, and the metal fastenings tarnished. It was clearly old, but not necessarily valuable.

"This is another lesson," Lucius said carefully. He was eying Draco in a way that had the boy mindful of his posture once more. "I was going to leave it for later... but I suppose we could try now. Keep in mind, I fully expect you to fail."

"What is it?"

"It's a boggart; a creature that remakes itself into your worst fear." Lucius fiddled with the trunk's lock, keeping one hand on the lid to keep it closed. "The enchantment is Riddikulus, and it can be quite difficult for some to master. Are you ready?"

Draco wanted to say no. His overactive imagination was coming up with all sorts of things the boggart could turn into—statues that came to life and ants as big as his head—but Lucius was looking at him expectantly, and he couldn't say no to his father.

"Yes."

The lid lifted and it only took a moment for the creature to lock onto the eleven year old. He froze, waiting for the thing to take shape, and it was like falling and waiting to hit the ground.

Suddenly he was standing in front of what appeared to be a harmless kitten. It was a puff of ivory fur, almost cute, but then it grew. It's eyes darkened to jet black as it's body elongated and shed the fur. It became a hairless, bony Siamese cat and Draco shuddered involuntarily. He'd always found them ugly and creepy.

The cat hissed at him, bearing its sharp teeth and claws. It came closer, and Draco retreated. The cat began to grow again, becoming abnormally large, almost as big as the boy, and then bigger. Draco trembled, and the wand fell from his hand as he backed up against the wall.

The monster growled, getting ready to pounce, when suddenly it was gone. In it's place was Draco, an exact copy, lying lifeless on the ground.

The real boy remained flush with the wall, too concerned with his racing heart to wonder about his dead doppelgänger, or when his mother had entered the room.

"Riddikulus!" Narcissa cast, and the body flew into the trunk.

Draco let his mother pull him away from the wall, avoiding his father's eyes as he did. More than anything, he didn't want to disappoint him.

"I think we should leave the lessons until we've gotten you a wand of your own," Narcissa told him, putting an end to the horror.


End file.
